From A(shram) to B(each) - Amritapur to Varkala

Thursday 28 February

Surreptitious photo of Ashram entrance

I sleep surprisingly well despite my thin mattress on the floor and am not woken by the 4 am rising bell. So it's 5 am by the time I emerge from my little room, shaped like a wedge of Stilton cheese. The committed "ashramites" (ashra mites?) are well stuck in to chanting the thousand names of the Almighty One, but I have a few minutes for contemplation before joining the queue for free tea at 6 (we were warned not to tarry or it would be gone, which it was.) I am reminded yet again of what it feels like to be a stranger in an unfamiliar world. "Where are the cups?" I have to ask. "In the bucket, (stupid - implied)". Later, I'm not sure which queue to join for the free breakfast, so cop out and buy cornflakes and a cheese omelette at the pay cafe instead. The daily schedule lists morning meditation on the beach, near the yoga station, so I make my way down there. I perch myself upon a damp rock to watch the sun rise, only to discover that my white cotton bedwear now has an embarrassing brown-stained backside, stupid. I creep back in and change.

Just "hanging out", 60 mph

After a session in the ashram internet cafe, I purchase replacement second-hand white trousers for Rs. 10, then rendezvous at 11 with Katriona and check out. By now, Her Holiness Amma is already stuck into another busy day of hugs, but we take a bumpy rickshaw ride to the nearest station, 12 kms. away at Kayamkulam. We buy second class tickets, but the train (which has come all the way from Delhi) is an hour late. At least I can lean out of the open train doors unchallenged (they probably bother less about second class passengers falling out!), an exhilarating sensation especially when we cross viaducts and pass within sight of the sea. [Wind-blown hair also illustrates recent haircut & beard trim!]

Varkala has a top notch beach - clean and beautiful with a lane of small shops and hotels running along the top of its striking red cliffs. So it's hardly surprising that it is populated largely by Europeans, mainly (young) Brits and French. Having inspected a number of places to stay, I check in at the "Hill Top Ayurvedic Guest House and Dental Spa" while Katriona finds a funky-painted room in a place next door. Hill Top is just the place to end a 3-week trip. It has steps down to the sea, and my room has a breezy private balcony and a view south along the beach. It'll also be handy if I develop toothache. I can see and hear the surf without even leaving my bed. After a rest, I head down to the cliff steps and dunk myself in the warm breakers. Delicious!

Room with a view

Varkala, unlike elsewhere in Kerala, has a relaxed if covert, attitude to alcohol. The restaurants here serve beer in pottery mugs (you don't have sight of the bottle, they bring two full mugs to the table). There are "mocktails" (alcohol-free cocktails) and the real thing too. Spirits in cocktails (popular) are "coded", as the waiter puts it. Gin is G-juice, Rum is R-juice, Vodka is V-juice and so on. Most of the waiters here are Tibetan and several restaurants have a string of prayer flags flapping from their terraces. It feels familiar.